


To save what can be saved

by DanaK1993



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Book burnings, Books, Crowley was a Nazi hunter, M/M, More cheerful than the tags make it sound, Post WWII, Sharing a drink, World War II, nazis mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26445781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanaK1993/pseuds/DanaK1993
Summary: After Crowley’s return from the Continent, he and Aziraphale have a drink and catch up.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	To save what can be saved

“How’s London been while I was away?” Crowley asks, sprawling out on the sofa. “Anything old and exciting in the used books spheres?”

Aziraphale hesitates quite noticeably. “Well.... I did procure some— they weren’t rare at the time, but they probably are now.” He points to a stack of books Crowley had overlooked on his way in.

They’re in German. And one of them appears to have singed pages.

The breath goes out of him in a rush. “You didn’t.”

Aziraphale squares his shoulders, defensive. “I had to. And that’s not all. It’s— wait here.” He disappears into the back, reappears with a large silver case in his arms, sets it on the table.

Crowley immediately knows what it is by the case and the size. “A Torah?” He can detect the faint, faint stench of smoke on this one, too, as well as the itch of holiness even from across the room.

It’s all he can do not to blurt out, _You waltzed into Nazi-land on your own to save a pile of books?_ Because he knows when some things should not be spoken. He’s had years of practice at not speaking things.

Aziraphale can read his face though. “I had to,” he says again.

“I know,” Crowley answers. No fight in his tone now. It’s as if he’s acknowledging a simple fact. The earth is round, Eve ate the apple, and Aziraphale will risk discorporation for the books he so loves.

“Can I see them? The books?”

Carefully, carefully, Aziraphale brings them over to Crowley. There’s ten titles in all, and no consistency in the subject matter. Here a volume of poetry, there a novel, there a study of human gender and sexuality. The one he’s picked up does indeed have singed pages, as if it had been snatched from the very edge of the bonfires. Aziraphale had obviously grabbed what he could and run.

Ten books and a Torah. Out of thousands of books burned. It occurs to Crowley that the Nazis didn’t just destroy lives; they had destroyed _knowledge_. The very thing he’d given to humans.

He raises his eyes to look at Aziraphale. “You amaze me,” he says quietly, fondly. “You really do.” He pauses, before saying, “You didn’t need to go in there alone, you know you could have asked me to help.”

Aziraphale looks away. “I.... didn’t actually know that, at the time.”

Right. They hadn’t been on speaking terms then. Crowley feels so abruptly uncomfortable that he wonders if he’s about to turn into a snake and crawl under the sofa. He takes a steadying breath, trying to keep his voice level. “You could have.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale says quietly, and it seems to Crowley there’s multiple meanings behind that simple statement, but he very deliberately decides to parse them out later.

He leans back on the sofa again. “D’you have any decent wines around here, or are you all out? I figure we might want to celebrate my homecoming.”

Aziraphale blinks, then grins quickly. “I actually have a bottle I was saving for when you got back....”

“Well, ‘m here now. Let’s have it.”

As the wine is poured, Crowley says, “I heard a variation on this toast during the war: May we get what we need, may we get what we want, but may we never get what we deserve!” He raises his glass.

Aziraphale gives a startled laugh, then lifts his own glass in reply.

They drink. They are drinking to bravery, to determination, to compassion. And in the depths of their hearts, they are drinking to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> This is supposed to be part of a larger Good Omens fanfic that I’m working on; this segment is set in the late 1940s. Crowley has just returned from the Continent where he was working with a Lieutenant Lee, Nazi-hunting. During the war proper, Crowley was involved with British intelligence services. Aziraphale visited Germany in the mid-1930s during the infamous book-burning rallies. Crowley’s toast is a shout-out to the Wonder Woman movie. Thanks to Nen for helping me with the title!


End file.
